


Heaven's Away

by newsonthemoon



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: 10 years of Catholic education and this is where it finally pays off, Audience Participation, Children, Gen, Satanism, School Play, Wacky Satanic Hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 01:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10349283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsonthemoon/pseuds/newsonthemoon
Summary: Alpha volunteers to play Jesus in the altar children's production of Dispassion of the Christ. This goes about as well as expected.





	

From the back of the room, at the outskirts of the gathered crowd, a single voice emerged.

“Bring out the nail gun!”

Even as he stood at the center of the stage, gaze lowered, Alpha wondered whether it still counted as heckling if even the actors knew what the audience was really there for. He pondered this for a moment, before being jolted out of his thoughts by the Pontius Pilate delivering the play’s most important lines.

“I am to release one prisoner, as is custom during Passover. Shall I release Jesus?” she asked her fellow actors, straining to project her voice to the audience.

“No! Release the murderer Barabbas!” the group onstage shouted in unison.

“Very well!” Pontius said, “What shall I do with him then?” She raised her arm in a grand gesture in Alpha’s direction.

“Crucify him!” the group cried, with a few audience members joining in, "Let his blood be upon us and upon our children!”

“Why? What crime has he committed?" Pilate asked.

There was a great sigh from the crowd.

“Just do it already!” one of the audience members shouted.

The girl’s eyes darted around the room, her nervousness obviously authentic. She looked down at Alpha from her cardboard tower, catching his eye. He gave her a thumbs up and a nod, smiling proudly at her under his mask. A relieved grin emerged on her face as she addressed the crowd onstage.

“Very well. I give him over to the soldiers to be crucified!” she said, rushing down the steps and offstage just as a pair of Roman soldier approached Alpha from behind. As rehearsed, they hauled him away behind the curtain, before hurrying off to their position on the other side of the stage. He watched them for a moment longer, ensuring the two of them remembered their places, before heading towards the dressing area. When he arrived there, he ducked behind the curtain provided for privacy, stripping off his white robe and wrap and chucking them onto a nearby chair without a moment’s hesitation. He turned to hurry back onstage, only for Earth to enter the dressing area. One of Earth’s arms, still pushing the curtain aside, paused in mid-air, before rising to hide his face.

“Alpha, cover up!” Earth hissed, “There are children in the audience!”

“That wouldn’t be authentic enough!” Alpha huffed, “Jesus wouldn’t have been wearing clothes while he was being crucified, so neither should I. You want to lie to these kids?”

“Why do you care about authenticity all of a sudden?” Earth said, eyes still covered, “We’re not exactly doing Hamlet here.”

“Yeah, but I still want to bring something to this role,” Alpha said, “It’s not everyday you get selected to play the part of one of history’s greatest villains, you know.”

“You volunteered for the part,” Earth said, “And we only asked for an adult to play Jesus so the audience wouldn’t feel bad for throwing things at him.”

“Well, that just means I have to prove my dedication to the role,” Alpha said, jabbing a finger in his direction, “And that means historical accuracy.”

Earth looked up, eyeing him suspiciously. “You just want to show off because you know Water’s part is coming up soon, don’t you?” Earth said.

“ _No_ ,” Alpha said, looking positively scandalized by the accusation.

“Dude, she’s playing your mom. That’s borderline creepy!” Earth said, throwing up his hands.

“I just care deeply about the art of theater!” Alpha said, “And anyway, do you think kids are going to be traumatized by the sight of me or something?”

“No,” Earth scoffed, “I just don’t want them thinking it’s acceptable to wear Batman underwear past the age of twelve.”

Alpha looked away indignantly, then sighed, scooping his costume up in one hand and slipping it on over his head. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, tugging the hem down until it fell past his knees. He reached for his sash, folding it over his shoulders, before presenting himself to him, “There. How do I look?”

“Good enough,” Earth said. Just then, Alpha heard the rising voices of the actors onstage, who were already proceeding without him.

“Aw, shit, missed my cue!” Alpha said, lifting his robes above his knees and rushing past him.

“Don’t forget your squib this time!” Earth called out after him.

* * *

 

Alpha’s appearance onstage was greeted, as always, with a chorus of insults and boos, accompanied by yet another wave of crumpled up paper thrown his way. He held back a snicker as the projectiles bounced harmlessly off the side of his mask. The two Roman soldiers, decked out in craft foam armor and boot covers, rushed behind him, twisting his arms behind his back with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. Alpha fell to his knees in an appropriately dramatic fashion, squealing as he hit the ground. Another Roman soldier approached him, a crown of styrofoam and craft paint in her tiny hands.

“For the King of the Jews!” she squeaked, gingerly placing the crown around his mask’s horns. Right on cue, Alpha let out an agonized scream, falling to the ground and writhing in pain. The girl jumped back, startled, before stepping quickly offstage. She reappeared a moment later, dragging behind her Jesus’ cross to bear, a marvel of engineering and poster board. There was many a disappointed groan among the crowd, the end of Jesus’ torment coming far too soon for their liking.

“C’mon, you can do worse than that!” a voice shouted.

“Get his legs!” another added. A murmur began growing in the crowd as another chorus of voices rose up, throwing suggestions at the stage.

“Should we?” one of the soldiers whispered.

“That's not in the script,” she whispered back.

“We’d just be giving the audience what they want, right?” he said.

“Yeah!” the girl said, suddenly delighted.

“Wait, guys, I--ow!” Alpha began, just as a cardboard tube smacked the back of his neck. He turned around and attempted to speak, but the children set upon him quickly, taking turns swinging their spears down upon him. A triumphant cry rose up among the applause in the auditorium as Alpha’s hands rose to cover his head.

“Kick him while he’s down!” someone shouted.

A rushed set of footsteps interrupted the beating before they had the chance to take the suggestion. Alpha rolled onto his side in time to see Water, hurriedly slipping on her head covering as she approached the two soldiers.

“That's enough, you guys,” she whispered, coaxing them away from him. They let out matching sighs as they lowered their weapons.

“Get up, Son of God,” one of them said, picking up where he had left off, “You have a long journey ahead of you.” Alpha scrambled to his feet, rushing to take his cross from the waiting soldier with more enthusiasm than the scene likely required. The soldier almost threw it across his shoulders, shooing him towards the stairs at the side of the stage. Alpha took it, adjusting it so it laid across his neck, and nearly sprinted down the steps before he remembered he was supposed to be shambling. He slowed just as he reached the floor, turning to march in front of the audience as the stagehands prepared for the grand finale. Behind him, they wheeled out a large, elaborately carved wooden cross, platforms built in to allow the use to stand with his arms spread comfortably. He shuffled his feet, buying them time as he braced himself for another round of projectiles.

Thankfully, unlike last year, he hadn’t spotted any burning Bibles among the audience members (the Clergy had made rules after that incident) and the crowd seemed mostly satisfied for the time being. He smiled gratefully under his mask, even as several people raised their arms in anticipation. He didn’t even make it halfway to the other side before an assortment of objects descended upon him--more crumpled up paper, various fruits, loosely packed bath bombs, bags of glitter--nothing out of the ordinary. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the beer bottle.

It slammed against his mask, hard enough to throw him slightly off-kilter. The crowd burst out laughing, a wave of applause spreading across the room. He took a moment to glare out into the audience, before regaining his balance and continuing down his rehearsed path. This moment of relative peace lasted about ten seconds, at which point he felt another sharp sting against his shoulder. He looked down in time to see the second beer bottle fall to the floor, and looked up just in time to see another headed straight for him, this one paired with a handkerchief stuffed inside its neck. Alpha yelped, ducking just in time for it to land harmlessly on the stage behind him. Water, who had up to this point been kneeling at the side of the stage, rushed to her feet, stepping forward and grabbing the bottle before it could roll off the stage.

She let out a sigh of relief as she held it. “It's empty, don't worry,” she whispered, turning back to return to her position. Alpha turned to address the audience, standing straighter.

“You know Molotov cocktails are supposed to have something flammable in them, ri--” he began, before another bottle was launched in his direction. He screamed, dropping his cross and rushing off towards the other end of the room. “Who keeps doing that?!” he shrieked.

“You don't fool me with that mask, you bastard!” came a shout from the crowd, distinct among the sea of voices by its coarseness. Papa I stood from his seat, raising his walking stick in righteous fury, “I'm sending you back to where you came from!”

“I'm not actually Jesus, Papa. It’s just a costume!” Alpha said, raising his hands to protect his head, “We go through this every year!”

“FOR LUCIFERRRRRR!” Papa cried, clambering over the rows ahead, to the loud protests from those around him who were suddenly shoved aside. He landed face first on the floor as he attempted to hop over the first row, granting Alpha a brief few moments. He rushed to Water’s side, ducking behind her.

“Could you please stab him for me?” Alpha asked.

“Let's just get this finished and we’ll get his chaperone to calm him down,” Water said with a sigh, gesturing to the children gathering around them. Down in front, Papa had just barely begun getting back on his feet, muttering under his breath.

“Right. Can't let him ruin everyone else’s day,” Alpha said, jutting out his chin with determination. He turned, climbing up onto the platform as Mary and the apostles sank to their knees around the cross’s base, faces falling in mourning.

With the scene set, another Roman soldier almost skipped out onto the stage, gripping her tin foil spear, hands shaking with excitement. Alpha shifted on the platform, giving the soldier the signal as he turned and faced the audience, in position.

“Take this!” she shouted, evidently forgetting her line. With all her strength, she drove the spear up into his chest, waiting for the squib to burst and signal her departure. Her smile faded as she realized nothing was happening.

“Did you forget the squib?” she whispered, heartbroken.

“No, no, of course not!” Alpha assured her, “It probably just got jostled while I was running onstage. It's there somewhere.” The girl pouted, retreating a step to adjust the spear’s position before stabbing him again. To her (and the audience’s) disappointment, the spear again hit nothing.

“Just keep trying! You'll get it eventually,” he said, moving his wrist in its rest to give her a thumbs up.

“Guys,” Water said, tone edging on nervous, “Papa’s getting up.”

“I'll hurry!” the girl whispered, summoning all her strength to raise her spear, bring her arms back, and jab him repeatedly, moving a centimeter each time. Alpha bit down the inside of his cheek as her stabbing dissolved into smacking him across the chest, wielding her spear like a baseball bat. Water rose to her feet, creeping over to the girl’s side.

“I think they get the point, sweetie,” she whispered.

“Wait a sec, I've almost got ‘im!” she said, lowering her arms a fraction of an inch before the spear to his chest with a final blow. At last, the packet burst open, spurring out fake blood as the soldier pumped her fist into the air, another round of applause coming from the audience. It took a moment for Alpha to remember he was supposed to be delivering his final line, the soldier’s hasty exit being what jogged his memory.

“My god, my god!” he cried out, looking up into the heavens, “Why have you forsaken m--oof!”

The wind was knocked out of him as he felt something smack him hard across the stomach, before falling to the floor with a loud crack. Alpha gasped for breath, looking down to see Papa’s walking stick lying in front of him. A cackle rose in the air, drawing his attention back to Papa, now heaving himself up atop the stage.

“Let’s see you try and heal yourself once I'm through with you, kiddo!” he shouted, panting as he rose to his feet.

“Uh--” Water said, “He’s actually already dying, Papa!” She looked up to Alpha, gesturing at him frantically.

“Oh, uh--” Alpha lowered his head, letting out a bellow in what he hoped sounded close to anguish.

“That’s not gonna fool me this time!” Papa bellowed. Alpha heard the rustling of fabric as Papa threw his coat to the ground, just as Water’s voice rose in panic.

“Guys--the curtains! Close the curtains!” There was a rush of footsteps as they fled the stage, followed closely by the creak of ropes as the curtains were pulled closed. Alpha looked up in time to see Papa charge towards him, arms flailing.

* * *

 

Air strolled out onto the stage, uniform contrasting sharply against the drawn curtains. The crowd had fallen into a perplexed silence, leaving Alpha’s terrified shrieking from behind the curtain the only sound in the room. He faced the audience, adjusting something under his arm, and began his closing speech.

“And so, Jesus served his purpose, before being tossed aside by the very being who created him. Such is the fate of all who serve an unworthy God,” he began.

A loud thump filled the air as Alpha cried out, the smack of wood against the stage following soon after. Few in the audience bothered trying to hold back their laughter. Air paused for a moment, considering his next words, before continuing.

“And now, boys, girls, and all others--you can hear him as he burns in Hell for all eternity, just a you will if you ever stray from Lucifer’s path.” This line was punctuated by another set of Alpha’s screams and Papa’s shouted curses, which (thankfully for the children in the room) were in Italian. Air clapped his hands together, “Nema.”

The smattering of applause following his final words grew steadily as he crossed himself and stepped behind the curtain, preparing himself for the expected papal dispute. This year's Vernal Equinox festival was off to a good start.


End file.
